Your Character's Name: Hal Gardner Looking out to the lake, an endless blanket of sparkling indigo covering as far as I can see, I almost forget about the wreckage behind me. I think of what this world used to be, not that I really know, but I see the buildings. Remains of a city that used to live here, like a skeleton whose flesh has decayed and departed from the bones, frames of buildings and streets with no one on them. Facing the lake and looking at a park on its edge, I wonder when was the last time the playground equipment was used by its intended demographic. I start to imagine kids playing on the equipment, small happy faces running around carefree, simply enjoying life. I can see my wife playing with my son on the swing set, pushing him higher and higher with each turn. A change in the wind brings the smells of decay and death from the buildings just to my west and I’m brought back to reality, I turn to see the ruins of buildings and families that are long gone.
I don’t really know any of the men I’m traveling with right now; just met all three of them the night before while playing poker in a retirement home basement of all places. I told them how my Uncle had mentioned a gas station north of here, I’m not certain he was telling me the truth, he sort of seemed like he wanted to get rid of me, but telling them what he said doesn’t make me a liar. I just need to get away from this place, away from all the memories I have of a life I don’t have any more.
While heading along the lake Nolan continuously checks over his shoulder every few minutes. Does he hear something or know about someone we don’t? What does he think is out there right now? All I know is that it is making me uneasy, like maybe I should be watching over my back too. Hobson hasn’t really said much, but he’s carrying a giant gun of some kind with him, not sure whether that’s comforting or unsettling. Then there’s Oren who hasn’t really said anything at all since he told us about his missing sister, and as far as I can see he doesn’t have any real weapons either. Although he does seem to have a relatively positive demeanor, almost naïve and too trusting maybe, he definitely seems to be the most pleasant of our group.
Just ahead we see a small shack with a sign that reads “Bait” and Nolan immediately positions himself towards the back of the group. I can’t imagine what he expects to happen, but we approach cautiously anyway, maybe there is something to his paranoia. As we get near we can see another small building just ahead and with shadowed figures inside moving move about, something to look forward to later. We knock on the door and almost immediately a response comes from within the shack. “Wune minoot!” a man calls out in a strange tongue I don’t quite understand. He’s speaking my language but not quite the way I do, his words sound different. “Ow may I ‘elp ew?” he says as he opens the door, letting out a waft of body odor and something else repugnant. The strange man from the shack keeps asking to trade with us and seems very interested in our possessions. He eventually introduces himself as Le Chuck and invites us in.
We all enter his shack and with a look around see the cause of the smell. Throughout the shack there are numerous cans of worms and in the corner is a small stained bed. Le Chuck’s eyes are focused intensely on our bags and items we’re carrying with us. There is a slight mania to his eyes as they shift from one of us to the other, and a hunger within them as the gaze longing at us. While Nolan and Hobson talk to Le Chuck about the area and try to get information out of him while trading two cat statues, I pull my golf club of my back in preparation. Le Chuck suddenly reaches for both cat statues and starts to bring them towards him and without warning Nolan pulls out his lead pipe and swings it at Le Chuck's hands barely hitting one of them. Le Chuck takes a step back grasping his hand while gasping and stroking his minor wounds. The room freezes for what feels like hours. Suddenly a small sword slices through the air at Nolan's head. As Le Chuck barely misses and Nolan dodges, I swing my golf club at Le Chuck’s face but due to the confines of the shack my aim is thrown off and while I hit my target I don’t quite land it the way I should and Le Chuck is only knocked back a bit with his nose starting to spurt blood.
Hobson pulls out his giant gun and aims it at Le Chuck, turns out unsettling was the correct response to Hobson’sgun after all. I try to get control again, “Let’s just calm do…” but Le Chuck thrusts his saber upwards towards my face. I barely avoid getting my face slashed when Nolan jumps forward and strikes Le Chuck in the side with his lead pipe. With a loud crack Le Chuck immediately crumbles to the ground and starts coughing blood.
Taken aback by the sudden violence that has just befallen us I can’t help but feel sorry for this little man on the floor who speaks so strangely. In the world that was, how would the situation have played out, would things have been different. Then I think to myself, I’m really not looking forward to venturing on to the next building.
Looking out to the lake, an endless blanket of sparkling indigo covering as far as I can see, I almost forget about the wreckage behind me. I think of what this world used to be, not that I really know, but I see the buildings. Remains of a city that used to live here, like a skeleton whose flesh has decayed and departed from the bones, frames of buildings and streets with no one on them. Facing the lake and looking at a park on its edge, I wonder when was the last time the playground equipment was used by its intended demographic. I start to imagine kids playing on the equipment, small happy faces running around carefree, simply enjoying life. I can see my wife playing with my son on the swing set, pushing him higher and higher with each turn. A change in the wind brings the smells of decay and death from the buildings just to my west and I’m brought back to reality, I turn to see the ruins of buildings and families that are long gone.
I don’t really know any of the men I’m traveling with right now; just met all three of them the night before while playing poker in a retirement home basement of all places. I told them how my Uncle had mentioned a gas station north of here, I’m not certain he was telling me the truth, he sort of seemed like he wanted to get rid of me, but telling them what he said doesn’t make me a liar. I just need to get away from this place, away from all the memories I have of a life I don’t have any more.
While heading along the lake Nolan continuously checks over his shoulder every few minutes. Does he hear something or know about someone we don’t? What does he think is out there right now? All I know is that it is making me uneasy, like maybe I should be watching over my back too. Hobson hasn’t really said much, but he’s carrying a giant gun of some kind with him, not sure whether that’s comforting or unsettling. Then there’s Oren who hasn’t really said anything at all since he told us about his missing sister, and as far as I can see he doesn’t have any real weapons either. Although he does seem to have a relatively positive demeanor, almost naïve and too trusting maybe, he definitely seems to be the most pleasant of our group.
Just ahead we see a small shack with a sign that reads “Bait” and Nolan immediately positions himself towards the back of the group. I can’t imagine what he expects to happen, but we approach cautiously anyway, maybe there is something to his paranoia. As we get near we can see another small building just ahead and with shadowed figures inside moving move about, something to look forward to later. We knock on the door and almost immediately a response comes from within the shack. “Wune minoot!” a man calls out in a strange tongue I don’t quite understand. He’s speaking my language but not quite the way I do, his words sound different. “Ow may I ‘elp ew?” he says as he opens the door, letting out a waft of body odor and something else repugnant. The strange man from the shack keeps asking to trade with us and seems very interested in our possessions. He eventually introduces himself as Le Chuck and invites us in.
We all enter his shack and with a look around see the cause of the smell. Throughout the shack there are numerous cans of worms and in the corner is a small stained bed. Le Chuck’s eyes are focused intensely on our bags and items we’re carrying with us. There is a slight mania to his eyes as they shift from one of us to the other, and a hunger within them as the gaze longing at us. While Nolan and Hobson talk to Le Chuck about the area and try to get information out of him while trading two cat statues, I pull my golf club of my back in preparation. Le Chuck suddenly reaches for both cat statues and starts to bring them towards him and without warning Nolan pulls out his lead pipe and swings it at Le Chuck's hands barely hitting one of them. Le Chuck takes a step back grasping his hand while gasping and stroking his minor wounds. The room freezes for what feels like hours. Suddenly a small sword slices through the air at Nolan's head. As Le Chuck barely misses and Nolan dodges, I swing my golf club at Le Chuck’s face but due to the confines of the shack my aim is thrown off and while I hit my target I don’t quite land it the way I should and Le Chuck is only knocked back a bit with his nose starting to spurt blood.
Hobson pulls out his giant gun and aims it at Le Chuck, turns out unsettling was the correct response to Hobson’s gun after all. I try to get control again, “Let’s just calm do…” but Le Chuck thrusts his saber upwards towards my face. I barely avoid getting my face slashed when Nolan jumps forward and strikes Le Chuck in the side with his lead pipe. With a loud crack Le Chuck immediately crumbles to the ground and starts coughing blood.
Taken aback by the sudden violence that has just befallen us I can’t help but feel sorry for this little man on the floor who speaks so strangely. In the world that was, how would the situation have played out, would things have been different. Then I think to myself, I’m really not looking forward to venturing on to the next building.